The other day, I met a friend at the park for a catch-up. After 45 minutes of blissful note-swapping – my new tabi shoes, his new boyfriend – he pulled out a pair of ping-pong paddles and indicated a nearby table. “Fancy a quick game?” We are no longer speaking.
I’m joking, but only sort of. As far as I’m concerned, games of any sort ought to be illegal once everyone present is over the age of 12. I will make grudging exceptions for professional athletes, because apparently they’re earning a living, and realistically there is very little chance of me being asked to join in with, say, the Wimbledon final. But when it comes to anything less formal, the risk of being corralled is just too high: bat those balls, pucks, packs of cards, spinning bottles and Scrabble boards away from me, please.
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Truly, there is no social situation made better by adding a game. In a setting with people I know and love, it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment to have organic conversation curtailed by something ghastly like Articulate! And although structured activities are often wheeled out for groups of strangers, that’s even worse – because now not only am I playing a game, but doing so with a bunch of people I don’t know, and I want to die.
Let’s go round the office and introduce ourselves with two truths and a lie! Let’s get each of the hens to write down their favourite thing about Milly and she can guess who wrote what! Let’s stick pins in our eyes!
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In axing games, I’m not advocating for anything to replace them. On the contrary, all I want is space to be together, ideally while clutching either a coffee or a glass of wine, depending on the time of day. Don’t start thinking that activities that bridge that divide – pub quizzes, for instance – are an exception to my furious veto, either; they’re actually the most dire of all, the Uncanny Valley of organised fun. All the cues – friends, booze – are there for a lovely time, then suddenly, shhhhhh!, it’s the music round and Ollie takes this one very seriously.
Speaking of which, I’m fully aware that there exists a whole cohort who feel just as strongly as I, only in the opposite direction. I have encountered them in the wild – frothing at the mouth as they chastise you for putting your card on the left instead of the right or whatever – and frankly, they frighten me. Maybe I envy their strength of feeling. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that righteous about anything, but it looks energising.
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Am I pathologically uncompetitive? Has my lack of interest in games birthed a unique ineptitude at almost every single one? Yes and yes! Nonetheless, my years on the sidelines have made one thing abundantly clear: the real fun begins as soon as the games stop. As I said to my friend at the park: put the paddles down and get me a glass of pinot, please.
